Instant Father

Chapter Twelve

Gavin was on the phone when Norah’s shadow darkened the doorway. He finished the conversation quickly and glanced up, no longer trying to hide from himself the pleasure he gained from the sight of her. But she didn’t look pleased. She was frowning. “It wasn’t very courteous of you not to tell me you’d invited your father to stay,” she said.

“My father? Of course I haven’t. Whatever put that idea into your head?”

“He did. He’s just arrived.”

“What?” Gavin’s astonishment propelled him out of the chair and halfway across the room. “He can’t have done.”

“An ambulance drew up outside and he was lifted out in a wheelchair. He’s got a male nurse who’s also arrived to stay.”

“Norah, I swear to you I knew nothing about this. You’ve got to believe me.”

“All right,” she said, her face relaxing. “I just thought for a moment that you’d summoned reinforcements.”

“Reinforcements against what? I thought we had a truce-maybe even a friendship?” He said the last words with uncharacteristic hesitancy. He never knew where he was with her.

To his astonishment, she replied, “Perhaps we do. The thing is, I never know where I am with you. Now, why are you looking all struck of a heap?”

“I-nothing. I’d better go and see my father.”

“Try and look pleased to see him,” she said shrewdly.

“Of course I’m pleased to see him-heaven help me!”

Norah chuckled and he forced a smile onto his face before going out into the hall. “Father, what a delightful surprise!”

William glared at him balefully from his wheelchair. He was a small, wizened man with brilliant eyes. “Surprise is right,” he snapped. “Knowing how I feel about this house, a good son would have invited me weeks ago.”

“I always meant to, but I wasn’t sure if you were strong enough. Besides, things have been in such turmoil recently-”

“Because of that woman, you mean?”

Gavin glanced at the open door and swiftly wheeled his father away into the living room. “If you mean Miss Ackroyd, she and I have learned to come to terms with each other.”

“Don’t give me that mealymouthed stuff,” William growled. “When enemies ‘come to terms’ it means that one of them has given in. And since she’s still here, it means you’ve given in. Why haven’t you got her out of here?”

Gavin briefly considered trying to explain his new feeling that Norah had as much right to be here as he did, perhaps more, but he gave it up at once. William would think he was crazy. He settled for the only explanation his father would understand. “I can’t get her out. She owns half the place.”

“Poppcock! A legal fiction to deceive you.”

“Her father bought Liz’s share-for cash,” Gavin said. He added the price and had the satisfaction of seeing William’s eyes open wide in surprise. If there was one thing his father understood it was hard cash.

But the next moment William had returned to the attack. “So buy her out. Sell some of our assets. We’ve got plenty.”

“The property market isn’t what it was,” Gavin said carefully. “Raising that kind of money now would be-complicated.” It would be impossible, but he couldn’t tell William that. “Besides, she doesn’t want to sell.”

“Pooh! So what? There are ways of persuading people.”

“Don’t let’s spoil your visit with a fight, Father,” Gavin said, striving to keep the smile on his face.

“Won’t spoil it at all. I enjoy a fight. Where’s my grandson?”

“I’ll fetch him in a moment,” Gavin said, “but before you see him, there’s something you must understand. Peter’s had a very bad time recently and he’s withdrawn into himself. He doesn’t speak.”

“Doesn’t speak? What d’you mean? You mean he can’t speak?”

“He can, but he doesn’t. He’s happier in his own world. He’ll come out of it when he’s ready.”

“Stuff and nonsense! It does no good to humor tantrums.”

“I don’t consider it a tantrum,” Gavin said, trying to keep the anger out of his voice. “I don’t push him about this, and I won’t allow you to push him. If I don’t have your word not to try to bully him, I’ll keep him away from you.”

“Bully him. Bully him? I’m the mildest man on earth. If I ever thought to see my own son giving in to such namby-pamby-all right, all right. I won’t say a word.”

“Your promise?”

“Yes, yes. Get on with it.”

Peter was fetched and introduced to his grandfather. To Gavin’s pleasure he showed no shrinking, stepping forward calmly to shake hands, but he remained silent when William spoke to him. In a sense the old man kept his word and let the matter go without comment, but his restraint had a quality of disgust that Gavin recognized from his own childhood. He felt a remembering shiver go through him.

Mrs. Stone announced that William’s room was ready, and the nurse took him to it. They saw no more of him until the evening meal, by which time William was fully rested and raring to go. Gavin faced the evening with dread.

Throughout the meal William studiously ignored Peter. He did more than ignore him. He showed no awareness of his presence, talking rudely across him as though he were an empty space. Gavin felt his soul shrivel with sympathy for his son. He would have liked to remonstrate with the old man, but could think of nothing he could do that wouldn’t make matters worse. He glanced at Peter and saw that his son was regarding William with curiosity. He didn’t seem hurt, merely interested. Then he saw Gavin’s encouraging look, glanced back at William, and lifted his shoulders a fraction. There was a slight smile on his face as if he were saying, “Don’t worry. This doesn’t trouble me.”

With astonishment Gavin realized that Peter had got William’s measure. He’d seen right through the old man to the petty spite that lay behind his behavior. Having assessed it, he could deal with it. For a boy of ten it was a sophisticated response, Gavin realized, and one that suggested an inner security. In fact, it was more sophisticated and secure than Gavin’s own reaction to his father.

But, then, he had a history of being at a disadvantage with William. His heart sank at the thought of having his father here for a long visit, upsetting everything, just when things were going so well.

And then he wondered at himself. His firm was still in a mess. He was no nearer recovering either Peter or Strand House. So why did he feel things were going well?

He saw Norah looking across at him, a gentle, quizzical smile on her face, and he was swept by a feeling that as long as she smiled at him nothing could possibly go badly. He looked away, suddenly self-conscious.

Afterward, when Peter had gone to bed, Gavin, Norah and William shared a drink in the living room. William kept glaring at Norah, evidently considering her an interloper, until at last she took pity on Gavin and announced her intention of taking a last look at the sanctuary.

“Do you allow her to come in here?” William demanded when she had gone.

“Father, don’t you understand? This is her house, too. She goes where she wants.”

“Then do something about it. Did I raise a spineless milksop?”

“Probably,” Gavin was goaded to retort. “I certainly haven’t the nerve to tell Norah where she can and can’t go in her own house.”

“Then it’s time you-what the devil is that noise?” A mad rapping sound was coming from the door. Gavin went across impatiently and opened it. At once Osbert waddled in, honking with irritation at being kept waiting. “Get that creature out of here,” William yelled.

“It’s only Osbert,” Gavin said.

“It has a name?” William enquired with awful sarcasm.

“They all have names. It sounds a little odd at first, but you soon get used to it.”

“I have no intention of getting used to it. Not here. Do you know what Strand House used to be?”

“Of course, I do. You’ve told me often enough.”

“A place of beauty and gracious living. You’ve let them turn it into a zoo.”

“It’s not a zoo, it’s a sanctuary-a place of healing and peace.”

“Sentimental poppycock! Get that bird away from me.”

“Don’t wave your stick at him like that,” Gavin said sharply. “You’ll scare him.”

The warning came too late. William swung his stick wildly at Osbert, missing the bird’s beak by half an inch. Osbert danced with rage and gathered himself for an attack. Quickly Gavin intervened, grabbing the furious bird around the body, but Osbert twisted his neck back far enough to bite him. He yelled and strode to the door, pushing Osbert out and slamming it shut behind him.

“That creature ought to be put down,” William shouted. “He’s vicious.”

“He’s not vicious,” Gavin growled, rubbing his arm. “He just doesn’t like being attacked. It’ll be all right as long as you don’t do it again.”

“I? Are you daring to blame me?”

Gavin sighed. “This is Osbert’s home,” he declared, knowing how he must sound to the man who had raised him to believe only in the tangible signs of success.

“They’ve addled your brains,” William snapped. “You’d never have said such a daft thing at one time.”

“No,” Gavin said, in wonder at himself. “I wouldn’t, would I?”

“So you admit it? It’s a relief that you can see the truth.”

“Just what truth do you have in mind, Father? I’m beginning to wonder if your truth and mine are the same. Maybe they haven’t been for a long time.”

William ignored this. “You admit that this place and the people in it are rotting your brains. Think what they’re doing to your son. You must get him away from here while there’s time to save him.”

“I don’t think he needs saving from anyone or anything here,” Gavin said deliberately. “I’m perfectly happy with what he’s learning.”

“Stuff and nonsense. He’s growing up. He’s got to learn to be a man, and it’s your duty to move him out of here and see that he does.”

“It’s not that simple. I explained in my letter that he’s legally under the care of the Local Authority and I can’t move him without their permission.”

“Local Authority be damned! I’ve been dealing with them all my life, and I’ve never let them get the better of me yet.”

“Yes, I’m familiar with your ways with planning departments. This is a little different.”

“Determination and a refusal to be bullied will work with any department. I taught you that long ago, and until now I thought you’d learned the lesson. I was proud of you. Now I’m beginning to think there’s a weakness in you. Stop pussyfooting around and take possession of your own son.”

“I don’t like the expression ‘take possession of,’” Gavin said firmly. “My son isn’t a possession. He’s a person with ideas of his own.”

“Nonsense,” William snapped. “Children are what you make them. Look what I made of you.”

Gavin swung around on him. “Yes, look what you made of me,” he said bitterly. “A man whom nobody loves.”

He strode from the room, feeling he couldn’t bear any more. In the hall he found Norah, and from her face he knew at once that she’d overheard the whole exchange. “You were right,” he said. “A man nobody loves.”

“No,” she whispered. “I was wrong. I was so wrong.”

There was a new light on her face. Before he knew what she meant to do she had reached up and laid her lips gently against his. The next moment they heard William banging on the door with his stick, shouting, ready to continue the argument. Norah sighed and hurried away. Gavin turned to confront his father. And neither of them saw Peter peering through the banisters.

He was back in the misery and despair that had haunted his nights for weeks, plunged into a darkness in which he screamed and screamed, but there was no sound.

But suddenly the suffocating silence was broken by the most beautiful, gentle voice he’d ever heard. Hands held him and he awoke to find himself staring, wild-eyed, into Norah’s face, clutching her as if she were his lifeline. And she was. He saw it now. He could see everything now.

“Gavin,” she said, shaking him to make him awaken properly. “Gavin, it’s all right. I’m here.” Then, as he continued to stare at her with a ghastly face, she pulled him against her and enfolded him in her arms, stroking his tousled hair and laying her cheek against him. “It’s all right,” she whispered. “I’m here.”

“Thank God you are,” he said hoarsely. His face was pressed against her bare skin and he could breathe in the scent of feminine warmth and sweetness. Yet he was hardly aware of sexual provocation, only the ineffable bliss of being comforted.

“It must have been a terrible dream,” she murmured, “and you seem to have it so often.”

“How do you know?”

“I hear you. You cry out in your sleep almost every night. Tonight it was louder than usual. That’s why I came in.”

Once it would have appalled him to know she’d heard him crying out in his sleep. Now he only felt relief that she understood without explanations. “What was the dream about?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I wake up in a terrible state, full of fear and dread, and not knowing why.”

“If you could only remember, we might fight it together,” she sighed.

He grew still, trying to absorb this novel idea. Fighting was something he’d always done alone. His idea of “together” had been with Liz or Peter, two people he’d wanted to protect. The ideas of enlisting them on his side in the fight had simply never occurred to him. Now it seemed so obvious; as obvious as the fact that there was no one he wanted fighting for him more than Norah. “Together,” he murmured longingly. “If only we could.”

“We can. It’s not so hard.”

“It is for me,” he said with difficulty.

“Yes. For you. But we could still manage it, if we knew what you were afraid of.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to say the old instinctive words, that he wasn’t afraid of anything. But that wouldn’t do, not here and now, now with this deeply honest woman. “I don’t know what I’m afraid of,” he said at last. “I’ve hidden it too deep. I’m-afraid to find it.”

“Why?” she probed gently. “Why are you afraid to find it?”

“Because it might be more than I could bear.” A shudder went through him. “Unless-unless you were there.”

“I’m here,” she said softly, stroking his hair. “I’ll always be here.”

As she spoke, he had a sudden brief vision of another nightmare-the nightmare of losing her, as though the things they would say now would lead irresistibly to their separation. “It’s all right,” he said. “It’s over now. The dream’s gone. We can’t drag it back, and we don’t need to.”

The words were hollow and false to his own ears, and he could only guess how they seemed to her. She didn’t answer, but drew back and looked him full in the face. Her eyes were kind, but full of disappointment, as though she’d found him a coward. “It’s all right,” he said desperately.

“If you say so.”

He held her tightly, as if to stop her going, while his thoughts whirled in torment. At last he asked, “Could you ever make out what I said?”

“Not in the past. It was just indistinct shouting. But tonight you were clearly saying, ‘I don’t want to go. I don’t want to go.’ You kept shouting it over and over again. Does it mean anything?”

He told himself it didn’t mean a thing, but the wall of denial was starting to crumble, and through the cracks he could see the thing he’d hidden from all these years. He could see a little boy, just six years old, dragged screaming from his mother. The child’s sobs and cries tore into Gavin, and his desperate pleading to stay with the only person he loved made him cover his ears. But nothing could shut out the terrible sound because it was inside him, in the childhood self that still inhabited his man’s body. It had always been there, and it always would be.

“Yes,” he said at last. “It means something. When my mother left my father, she took me with her. We were happy. I loved her and she-she loved me. But my father persuaded the court that she was an unfit mother and he came after us armed with an order. He made me go with him. I didn’t want to. I begged and pleaded to stay with my mother, but he dragged me away by force-”

He shuddered and her arms tightened around him in a fierce, protective embrace. “Oh, God,” she whispered.

“I never saw her again,” Gavin said in a bleak voice. “She died soon after.”

This time Norah couldn’t say anything. She could only rock gently back and forth, trying to comfort the unhappy child through the man in whom he still lived. Norah disapproved of violence, but when she considered William, who’d wreaked such devastation on the man in her arms, her thoughts were savage.

“And that was the dream?” she asked gently.

“Yes. I’ve blotted the truth out all my life, because it was the only way I could survive. I remember feeling so helpless. My life could be turned upside down without any reference to my feelings, and there was nothing I could do about it. I swore I’d never be helpless again as long as I lived.”

“So that’s why-?”

“Yes, that’s why I’m the way I am-overbearing, brutal-”

“No, not brutal,” she said quickly. “I thought so once, but I know better now.”

“I hope you’re right. Not that it helps to know that now.”

“It always helps to know the truth about yourself.”

“Maybe. It’s too soon for me to see how that could be. All I know is that suppressing it hasn’t worked. Recently, it’s started to come back to the surface. I guess we both know why.”

“Why do you think?” Norah asked cautiously. In her heart she knew the answer, but she was breathless with hope at the way Gavin was learning understanding, and she wanted to know how far he’d gone.

“Because of Peter,” he answered. “My father tried for years to turn me into an extension of himself-”

“But he hasn’t managed it,” she couldn’t resist breaking in. “You seem like him on the surface, but underneath you’re more generous and unselfish than he could ever be.”

“I don’t know. I only know that he came frighteningly close to succeeding. I told Peter that he had to learn to fight the world like a man, and then I had the strangest sensation. It was because my father used those very words to me. I’d better face the worst now. I’ve turned into him-a man who’s unfit to care for a child.”

“Gavin, you’re being too hard on yourself-”

“Perhaps it’s time I was a little hard on myself. How many times have I told you that Peter had to come with me because he was mine, without thinking of his feelings? No wonder he turned away from me in fear. He feels about me the way I’ve always felt about my father, and that’s the worst thing of all. That’s the thing I’ve got to put right.”

He raised his head and looked her in the eyes. His face was ravaged. “I came so close to repeating history, didn’t I? I nearly damaged him as I was damaged. But I won’t let it happen. I have to stop it now.”

“How?” she asked.

“By leaving, going a long way away, where he’ll forget me.”

“Gavin, that’s not the way,” she said quickly.

“It’s the only way. I have to break the cycle and let him be free of me. I’m going to leave him with you.”

“No.” The cry broke from her. “You mustn’t go. Not now.”

He looked at her intently in the dim light. “Not now?” he asked tentatively.

She didn’t answer in words, but the truth was in her eyes. He no longer had any defenses against his feelings, and for almost the first time in his life he did what his instincts were telling him to do, without question, without fear, with nothing but an overwhelming need. Drawing her to him slowly he laid his lips on hers, and immediately felt a deep peace invade him, body and soul.

She melted against him, kissing him back with ardor and some other quality, something he hardly dared to hope was love. But as they held each other and the peace possessed him completely, he knew what it was that united them. It was bitter to discover the sweet truth when he had to leave her, but he had no regrets. If he had to live a thousand lonely years without her, he would say they were all worth it for this moment, for the unspeakable joy of knowing that he’d won the love of the most perfect woman in the world.

He released her and looked into her face, loving everything he saw and trying to fix the sight in his mind against the lonely days to come. “I love you,” he whispered. “I don’t think I knew what love was until I met you. Norah…Norah…tell me that you love me.”

“I love you now and forever,” she said quietly.

“Oh, God,” he groaned. “Why did this have to happen when it’s too late?”

“Gavin, it doesn’t have to be too late. We can make it right.”

“Nothing will ever be right for Peter as long as I’m around. Don’t you see? I have to leave. It’s the only way to save him. As long as I’m here, he’ll suffer.”

“You can’t know that-”

“Yes, I can, because I remember my own feelings. I’ve hidden them all these years, and now it’s as though I’m feeling them for the first time. But perhaps I’m different from my father in this one thing-that I can see what’s happening and stop it. And I must stop it. I mustn’t let Peter suffer as I did. He’s too fine and sensitive. He’d be even more damaged than I was.”

“But what will you do? You mustn’t go back to your old life, where only property mattered. It’ll suck you in and make you hard again. Don’t do that, Gavin.”

“No, I’m finished with all that. Everything is hazy in my head right now, but one thing is clear. I must assign my half of this house to Peter, so that the sanctuary can be completely safe, then I’ll sell out and manage with what-if anything-is left. And perhaps one day I’ll be able to come back, when Peter’s had time to forgive me and I’ve learned to be the kind of father he needs. It may not be for a long time, but I’ll return one day. In the meantime, I give him to you.”

She looked at him and there was a new light in her face. “You love Peter enough to give him up?” she whispered. “You really love him as much as that?”

“As much as that,” he said.

“Oh, God, I’ve been so wrong about you.”

He managed a smile. “I never thought to hear you say that. Kiss me, my love. Kiss me as if it’s the only kiss we’ll ever have.”

She took his face between her hands and looked into it for a long moment, fixing it in her heart’s memory. She knew he was a man of iron will, and she had a terrible vision of the separation to come. The dread of that empty time ahead was there in her kiss, in the gentleness with which she laid her lips on his, and the soft, caressing movements with which she tried to tell him that she loved him. She could feel his answering love in the way he put his arms about her and drew her close. The man she’d once believed him to be would have been incapable of such tenderness, but she understood him better now, knew that there had always been love and tenderness within him, waiting to be released. Somehow she found the courage to believe that one day they would find each other again. His kiss told her that it was the same with him, and for a long time they clung together in silence, seeking reassurance and strength against the lonely time that faced them.

Gavin breakfasted early and alone, drinking only coffee. When he heard the others coming he went into the study and made two telephone calls, one to William’s convalescent home and the other to Angus Philbeam.

When he was sure he could control his feelings he went to William’s room. The nurse had just finished getting the old man up and settled into his wheelchair. Gavin gave him a nod and the man departed. “About time you came to see me,” William growled. “We have a lot to talk about.”

“We have nothing left to talk about,” Gavin said distantly. “I’m sorry, Father, but I can’t invite you to stay.”

“What do you mean, ‘invite?’ I’m here.”

“But you’ll be leaving as soon as the ambulance arrives for you. I’ve made all the arrangements. The home knows you’re coming back.”

William eyed him with disgust. “I see. Getting rid of me because you don’t want me to see you caving in, eh?”

“You’re leaving because I’m leaving myself. Neither of us belongs here any more.”

“Now what are you talking about? I never could understand the half of what you said.”

“That’s because you never listened. If you’d ever been interested in what I thought, you’d have discovered that I wasn’t just a replica of you. But of course, you didn’t want to know that. You’ve spent thirty years trying to use me to revenge yourself on my mother, for leaving you. And I’ve only just seen it. But it’s over. I got a lesson from my son last night. He’s too secure in his own values to let you trouble him. I wish I could have said the same of myself before now, but until recently I wasn’t given the benefit of knowing Norah Ackroyd.”

He waited to see if William would answer, but for once the spiteful old man was lost for words. Only the mottling of his face betrayed that his son’s words were having any effect.

“I’m putting my half of this house in Peter’s name, and I’m leaving everything in Norah’s care,” Gavin went on. “When I get back to town I’m going to free myself of the weary load of trying to prop up Hunter & Son. I’ve done my best, but my best isn’t good enough and I don’t care any more. I’m going to sell what I have to and pay the debts. You needn’t worry. There’ll be enough left to keep you in comfort, but beyond that I have no further interest in struggling to keep up a front of success when there’s no reality behind it.”

William turned rancorous eyes on him. “Quitter!” he spat. “I might have expected this from her son. You’re a quitter.”

“Yes,” Gavin agreed quietly. “I suppose I am. I’ve quit your world. Now I must try to find my own.”

There was a knock on the door. It was Norah, to tell him Angus had arrived. Gavin went downstairs quickly, leaving Norah and William briefly alone. The old man eyed her with bitter dislike.

“You,” he said. “You did this.”

“No,” she said simply. “You did it.”

Angus had come prepared with the documents transferring ownership of one half of Strand House to Peter, naming Norah as his trustee until the boy was of age. Angus was troubled. “May I ask,” he said delicately, “whether you are taking this course of action because you fear…er…total insolvency?”

“No, I’m not bankrupt,” Gavin said with a half smile. “At least, not financially bankrupt. No, this is for…other reasons.”

By the time he’d finished, the ambulance was at the door and William was already in the hallway, seated in his wheelchair and scowling. “I won’t say goodbye,” he snapped. “A son who could throw his father out on the mercy of the world has nothing to say to me or I to him.”

“You’re not being thrown out on the mercy of the world, Father,” Gavin said patiently. “You’re going back to live in great comfort, in a place where I’ve no doubt you’ve got everyone running around after you.” The nurse’s hastily smothered grin confirmed this estimate. “I’ll come to see you soon,” Gavin added.

“Don’t bother,” William snorted. “I don’t need to see a failure.”

“Yes, I am a failure,” Gavin said quietly. “But not in the way you mean.”

“There’s only one way. You knew that once. But you let them get to you and rot your brains. You’re her son, all right.”

“I hope so,” Gavin said. “I’ve been yours for too long. But I’ve remembered enough to know that my mother would have been at home here. And she’d have loved Norah.”

“I won’t dignify that kind of pap with an answer. You’ve let me down. That’s all I care about.”

Gavin nodded. “It really is all you care about, isn’t it?” he asked. “I’m just glad I saw it before I did any more damage to my son. Goodbye, Father.”

“Get me out of here,” William told his nurse in disgust.

Norah came out to stand by Gavin on the front step and together they watched the ambulance depart. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be. I feel as if a load had been lifted from my shoulders. Come with me.” He took her hand and led her indoors to where the papers still lay on the table. “These are my copies,” he said, handing them to her. “Take care of them, and take care of Peter. But I didn’t need to say that. You look after him much better than I can.”

“I still don’t believe that,” she said quickly. “Now that you’ve come to understand so much, you ought to stay. Peter needs you.”

Gavin shook his head reluctantly. “I’d like to think so. If he’d shown any sign of opening up toward me…of even liking me…it would be different. There have been times when I felt we were beginning to get close, times when he smiled or we seemed to share a thought. But they were always isolated incidents. I never knew how to build on them. The fact is, I’m no nearer to winning his heart than I was at the start. He doesn’t want me, and I can do only harm by forcing myself on him.”

“But to leave now, when we-when we’ve only just-” she stopped, choked with misery.

“I know,” he said, with a pain that matched her own. “But I have to put Peter first. Maybe when he’s older you and I can find each other again. I’ll live for that.”

He drew her close to him and laid his lips on hers. They clung together, each wondering when they would be in the other’s arms again. “I love you,” he whispered, “but I have to leave now, while I’m still strong enough. Help me, my darling.”

She nodded and smiled bravely. They were each thinking the same thing, that they could be as strong as they had to be, for Peter’s sake.

“I’ve got a few things packed in an overnight bag,” he said. “I’ll send for the rest. Now I must go and tell him.”

He found Peter playing with Buster and Mack. “I’d like a word with you,” he said quietly.

Peter shut the pen door behind him and looked inquiringly at his father.

“I’ve come to say goodbye,” Gavin said. “I’m going away. You can stay here with Norah, and I promise I’ll never try to take you away from her.” He looked into the boy’s face for some sign of response, but Peter merely looked puzzled, as if nothing he was hearing made sense. “Do you understand? You’re safe. You can stay here for as long as you want.” He took a deep breath. “I haven’t been a good father to you, but I’ve tried. I want you to know I’ve done my best, and when I failed-it wasn’t because I didn’t love you. I’ve always loved you, and I always will. But…” the next words were the hardest “…maybe Tony Ackroyd was a better father to you than I was.” He sighed. “I guess it was just too late for us.”

If there’d been a sign, a word, a look, he’d have changed his mind there and then. With an aching heart he waited for something that would give him hope, but Peter only stared at him, his face registering nothing. The hardest thing Gavin had ever done in his life was to kiss his son gently on the cheek, then turn and walk away.

Norah was waiting in the hall, her face full of hope, which faded when she saw him. He kissed her briefly before going out to the car.

She came to the front step to watch him, and after a moment Peter joined her. He stood completely still, his eyes fixed on his father. Gavin waved to them and paused a moment, fixing them in his mind, then opened the car door.

The next moment the air was split by an anguished scream. “DADDY!”

Gavin whirled around to see Peter standing there, tears streaming down his face. “Daddy,” he cried, “Daddy, don’t go, please.”

He couldn’t move. He could only stare in joyful disbelief at what had happened at last. Then he took a stumbling step forward. At the same time Peter began to run, leaping down the stairs to throw himself into Gavin’s arms. “Don’t go,” he pleaded frantically. “Stay with me, Daddy.”

Gavin picked him up boldly and looked into his face. “Is that what you really want?” he asked urgently.

For answer, Peter tightened both arms around his neck. Over his shoulder Gavin’s eyes met Norah’s. As she came close he freed an arm to enclose her, and the three of them stood there, unmoving, for a long moment.

“I guess you can’t escape us,” she said at last. She took one of his hands, Peter took the other, and together they drew him back inside the house.

“This time you’re here to stay, my love,” she said, closing the door on the world. “Welcome home!”